


baby, you were my picket fence

by bowlegsandfreckles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, Fluff, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 00:33:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13422930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowlegsandfreckles/pseuds/bowlegsandfreckles
Summary: Anon requested wincest and “Your hands are much larger than mine.” Set sometime after season 8.





	baby, you were my picket fence

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr at samwinchester-bottoms.tumblr.com. The song title is taken from Fall Out Boy’s “Miss Missing You”

Sam woke up in the dark, the only light coming from the digital clock next to his bed. 3:24 AM. Something had woken him up. He laid there quietly, ears straining to identify what was amiss.

To his left, coming from the doorway, Sam could hear a slight shuffling, like someone was waiting just outside his door. His senses on high alert, Sam slipped out of bed, hand wrapped around the pistol he keeps under his pillow. He crept quietly towards the door, stepping around the patch of light coming in from the crack under the door. The doorknob is cool under his touch. With a deep breath, he yanks open the door, aiming the gun at whatever lies beyond. 

Dean tumbles backwards with a yelp, sprawled across Sam’s feet. He gazes up at Sam, eyes wide and plumps lips parted in surprise. Sam watches as a smirk spreads slowly across his face. 

“Hiya, Sammy,” he slurs. It’s then that Sam notices the bottle of Jack Daniel’s resting at Dean’s feet; only a quarter of it is left. 

Sighing, Sam reaches down and grasps Dean’s hand, tugging him to his feet. “C’mon, Dean,” he says. He supports his brother’s weight as he stumbles, trying to regain his balance. Sam braces a hand on his shoulder, the other still entwined with Dean’s. 

“Your hand is much bigger than mine.” Dean brings their clasped hands up to his face, eyebrows pinched as he studiously examines their hands. So, he’’s super drunk, then; Dean only gets like this when he’s had far too much to drink.

Sam rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say, Dean.” He lets go of Dean’s hand, slinging his arm around Dean’s waist and pulling him securely against his body. “Let’s get you to bed,” he says, gently guiding him toward the bed. 

Dean turns his head toward Sam, burying his nose in Sam’s neck and inhaling deeply. “Missed you, Sammy,” he whispers against him. Sam has to strain to hear him. “Wanted to see you.”

“I’m right here, Dean.” They’ll have to talk about this in the morning, but for now Sam deposits Dean on the bed, throwing the blanket over him. Sam slips into bed beside him, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him in close. “Get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He presses a kiss to Dean’s head, feeling his brother relax against him. Smiling softly, he closes his eyes, his brother warm and comfortable in his arms.


End file.
